


Disturbing Dreams

by Hevnoraak



Category: Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 13:37:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12133641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hevnoraak/pseuds/Hevnoraak
Summary: Even though Dagoth Ur was defeated, the Nerevarine's dreams were still disturbing.





	Disturbing Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language so there might be a lot of mistakes.  
> This is my first time posting something here, I hope I didn't do anything wrong.

1.  
You thought you'd never dream such things anymore.  
But yet you still dreamed of your past this night, which of a life you've never experienced by your present flesh, seen by your present crimson eyes. You knew the people you saw, with blank faces and golden skin, were the spirits from Dagoth Ur's nightmare, because they gave you the same familiarity yet looked so distant and were all complete strangers to you.  
You thought Dagoth Ur was defeated and would never able to send nightmares again, but then you saw the familiar rooms with lit candles and incences, wrapped in red and gold silk sashes. You were terrified to see these images, but very soon you found out, that this wasn't a nightmare.  
You knew you were safe. There was a ornamented mirror in the room. Your body walked you towards it, but your face reflected was all blurry, only showing your golden skin and pale coloured hair.  
Some how you remembered, it was your wedding day. There were maids and servants rushing here and there in the rooms, through the corridors. You could not tell who exactly they were.  
Someone with hands that must have experienced their share of battles braided your hair (not your mohawk bit) into a traditional chimer style, in the middle of his work you tilted your head to talk to him. His accent was like the one of an ashlander, but his language used you could not figure out the meanings. It was like a mumble of complete gibberish.  
You stood up and walked towards the door at some point. It was blindingly bright outside, you could smell the damp scent of flowers and trees and fungi and dirt after a shower of rain. Exotic perfumes worn by house nobles mixed in the mid-summer gale, making you feeling already slightly drunk.  
The sunlight numbed you, you could not tell how did you take your steps and make your way through the crowd, you could see your bride on the other end of an endless red carpet, she was wearing gold and cyan, colours of House Indoril, her pauldrons shone so strongly that your eyes started to hurt.  
She was so young and dazzling, her red hair burned fiercely like amber in a forge. It might be at the middle of the path when you realised there were people singing ancient hymns and playing music. You neither liked it nor appreciated it. Stop it, you thought, but your body kept on smiling and going.  
The bride-your bride, your future wife smiled to the crowds in a sweet, confident way. Perfect for a queen. But when your sights met you noticed how passionless her eyes were. Her smile was nothing more than a lively mask. It might be her chillness that annoyed you, or it might be the fact that there were no one you knew in the crowd, or the dizziness of the sun, or the music without a specific enough tune, or the wedding itself.  
You heard some one calling you from behind, so you turned around to see who was there, as the voice was most familiar. As soon as you saw him the world around you snapped shut into darkness. The last thing you saw were a pair of eyes passionate enough to startle you.  
So you stood and stared back, totally unaware of where you were and what you were supposed to be doing.  
You woke up, then. It was still dark outside, violent wind flung freezing water onto your window. You sat up from your bed and looked outside. Even the lightnings could not light up the night sky. Far away from your house, Red Mountain stood sliently against the rumbling thunder.  
You fell back and went asleep again.

2.  
When you opened your eyes, you knew at once you were dreaming. For when else could you be staying with such beauty? You never could have known an altmer like this. Then you corrected yourself. He was a chimer. No altmer have black hair.  
Your hand stroked through his long, glossy hair, he closed his eyes in response, as if he was inviting you to take a step further. You was whispering some awkward praises, probably about him, the man blushed and chuckled, his slender fingers covered the delicate curve of his lips.  
The room was warm, maybe too warm, bright yellow flames from the white candles brought creamy writhling smoke upwards, they danced a little bit lazily and disappeared into the air. You looked into that mer's eyes and saw your own. You couldn't hear a thing, only seeing the mer's lips tremble, you tried to speak, but again you could not control the tiniest of your muscles. You looked into that mer's eyes, but you only saw your own eyes with equal joy and tenderness. When the mer reached out for you, before he touched you, you suddenly awoke.  
You found yourself strangely aroused, and you were terrified with that. Was this some kind of joke? DId you angered some of your ancestors or any of those gods by accident?  
You would never share any type of intimacy with some stranger, this was too close, you could almost smell the man's scent, aroma of herbs mixed up. He was handsome and lean, though, and his hair-totally your type.  
You tried to fall back to sleep, but you were widely awake by then. You attempted to search that beauty's name from your memory, but nothing came up to your mind. You sighed, stared at your ceiling in the cobalt blue gloom of twilight, trying to picture his face, but failed to make out his features as fine as he was in your dream. Your eyelids closed at some point you did not remember, there were no other dreams this night.

3.  
You slept safely and soundly for a week or two, and you've almost forgotten about that mer in your dream. Yesterday you went into a Sixth House Base by accident-you decided to venture along the Azura Coast for fun few days ago. The cave was slient, no murmurs of sleepers or groans in pain of corprus stalkers, there were hardly any sould except the howling of wind and soft sound of your footsteps. This place must have been abandoned, for spider webs have already been knitted at the base of the House Dagoth shrine. The glistening glass "eyes" of the ash statues stared at you like spirits of angry ancestors. Maybe they contain the ancestor souls of House Dagoth, who knows, you were never interested in ancestor worship, you didn't even know who your parents were. The trinkets evoked a degree of closeness in you, through the eyes of the statues you thought you saw the glowing, angry eyes of Dagoth Ur. You took one, it was slightly heavy in your hand, the smooth surface was cold and lifeless, it was possibly made of obsidian. You wrapped it up carefully and placed it in your bag.  
The night you came home, that guy entered your dream again. You still could not remember his name, but he was all joyful and pleased to see you, so you allowed your body to take control of its own(you actually never get to control your body in your dream, unfortunately). You could not remember what else happened, but you were sad when the dream ended, as the man in your dream left a small part of your heart departed with him.  
Nights and nights you've slept through, sometimes you dreamed of your past, but more of the time there was no dream at all, as if the Gods had decided to give you back all the sleep you've lost before you battled Dagoth Ur. Never, however, had you ever dreamed of that guy again. You pictued him in your mind, again and again, until you were certain every detail of his face was carved and fitted into your memory. You were in love with him, one day you suddenly you thought, but how in Oblivion could you get to a guy in your dream? Even if those were not dreams but shards of memory of your long-dead general in your soul, wouldn't that mean that guy in your dream was dead ages ago as well? You were frustrated. Some of your friends sensed your sorrow and asked you what was wrong. You told them you had a crush with some dude in your dream, all of them laughed, believeing that you just told them a joke.  
You wandered along the Azura's Coast when you had another break, you were not aware of your directions at all, and it was when your vision all turned black, that you noticed where you were. It was probably fate's guidance to have you walked into the Sixth House Base again, and it must have been some mythical forces to make you grabbed another Ash Statue.  
That night with the new Ash Statue, the chimer man slipped into your dream again.  
You could not tell how cheerful you were to see him, you were almost grateful on the act that he decided to return to you. When you woke up you guessed if it was all because of the ash statue.  
So you went to get more of those statues. It seemed to work. For each new one you took back home, you went a little bit closer to the mer in your dream. You could not tell if he was a chimer or if he was a dunmer like you in your dreams as time went by, but it didn't matter! Chimer and dunmer were all the same, were they not? Red-eyed, ashen-skinned, or not, it did not matter, he was as beautiful either way. Just having a glance of him could make your day.  
You felt like you knew him better and better. You knew he love you as well, you knew he was a mage and a councilor, you knew he was fascinated by alchemy and alteration, and he liked to put on some perfume he mixed by himself because he knew it would please you. Wasn't he sweet? You wanted to share all his greatness to your friends, but immediately before you took your thoughts to action you stopped, as you knew you behaviour would be viewed insane. You did not want to be dragged into the temple to get a "cure".  
You decided to keep your relation with your lover in your dream secret, as if anyone else could know it if you did not tell them. Sometimes you argue with yourself if you need to go and seek the Wise Woman for help, but you never go. Your heart premitted no betrayal of yourself or your very secret lover, and your mind was going to keep things like this.  
As more and more you gathered those statues, they got harder to be found. Until one day you went home and was convinced this was the last Ash Statue you could get in this world.

4.  
You were almost waken by a nightmare you could not tell, but the presence of him emerged from nowhere, and you knew at once you were safe. Strange enough though, you never got to truely touch him in your previous dreams. You realised this just now.  
You felt somehow awkward this time. You two had nothing to talk about for the moment, so he just sat down beside you, his worried glances swept over your face again and again, his lips trembled, trying to ask if something went wrong, but he failed to let any voice out of his throat. You breathed in and opened your mouth while turning around to face him, you asked without much thinking, "Voryn, what's-"  
He seemed to be surprised to hear you say his name, his eyes widened, then you were aware of that his eyes widened in terror. The world around you shattered into pieces. You were in the heart chamber, the place where the Heart of Lorkhan once throbbed and thrummed was empty. The rediculous skeleton of the Akulakhan was smashed to lumps of trash by its own weight. You took his hand to flee the place together. He ran with you. His hand was tender and soft, very different from your scarred and rougher skin. You could hear him panting as you rushed up the endless spiral path inside the chamber. Things collapsed as you stepped on them. You dared not to stop running. Where was the exit? It should be somewhere here. You looked up to see how far do you need to climb, but the height was overwhelming, impossible to reach. The head of Akulakhan dropped straight towards you like a meteor from sky above. You tried to scream, but your chest wasn't moving, your soundbox gaped and gasped in vain.

5.  
You woke up with a severe headache, as you pressed you hand on your pillow to support your body you realised your pillow was all wet from your tears. A candle was still lit, providing a faint ginger glow just enough to allow you see the outlines of the pile of ash statues accumulated in your house.  
It was your fault. You thought. You should have died with him in the Heart Chamber. Why have you fled from there? Why have you not died?  
Why were you still alive?  
You shouldn't have lived. You shouldn't have meddled into a world you did not even understand. You thought, why were you ever born? You should not have come to this world, really.  
You couldn't stop your tears from falling.  
Without saying a word you started to move all of your Ash Statues into your storage room. You locked the door. You dressed automatically like a dwemer animunculi. For the first time in your life you bought and lit some inscence to the Saints in the nearest temple.  
You followd the path which you've walked on twice before to the Red Mountain. Without the Blight Storms the Red Mountain region was still dread enough. You coughed as you inhaled mouthfulls of ash.  
Weirdly enough, the ash creatures decided not to attack you. They wandered idly around as if you were not there at all.  
You went inside the Dwemer Fort. It was intolerably hot inside. The dead bodies of fallen Dagoth mosters and heros stinked, mixed with the steam from broken brass pipes and the waves of heat from boiling lava, the smell made you feel sick.  
How did you even made it that far last time? For more than a few times you had to stop to rest for a while and ask yourself.  
You kept going deeper down, towards the inside most facility.  
Despite a tiny little space left the whole cave was in ruins. There was one last ash statue standing alone on the shrine.  
You crouched onto the spot where Dagoth Ur, or Voryn Dagoth once stood and waited for you, curled yourself up and sobbed. You felt like in this way you were sharing some sort of intimacy with him. Slowly you blacked out, because of the heat or sadness or some other crazy reasons.  
You heard someone sighed above you,  
Alas, there is no escape.

**Author's Note:**

> The work is inspired by my friend, Raspudding, apparently I don't know her username so I'm just gonna mention this here.  
> Oh and, there should be some typos but I can't find them now :(  
> [](https://imgur.com/kkWi35w)  
> after reading this for several more times I grew increasingly unsure of what I've written, I hope this makes some sense at all


End file.
